


The Deafening Silence

by sneakronicity



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneakronicity/pseuds/sneakronicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha lose communication during a mission, but the job must go on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deafening Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Trope Bingo prompt "Celebratory Kiss". I own nothing, for if I did these two would have their own movie.

The high pitched squeal of feedback cut right through him and he almost ripped the comm unit out of his ear on instinct, but the silence that soon followed was so much worse.  
  
“Widow?  Widow, do you copy?” he spoke frantically but received no reply.  “Dammit, Nat!”  Clint knew what that meant: her communication device had been damaged so they were both working deaf now, the line between them severed.    
  
He wanted to give up his position and run in to help her, but he knew that would only put them both in more danger.  He was her eye in the sky, and even if she could no longer hear him he had to keep reinforcements from reaching her.  He had to stay where he was and finish the mission, trusting that Natasha was fine and would take care of her part.  
  
_As long as there’s still gunfire she’s alive,_ Clint told himself, listening to the shots that pierced the otherwise still night, emanating from the building across the street.    
  
Pushing away his worry, he focused on the job at hand as a jeep full of men pulled up outside of the building.  The first two men that stepped out were taken silently to the ground by two perfectly aimed arrows before the others took cover and opened fire in Clint’s general direction.  Ducking down even though the bullets came nowhere near him, he rotated the custom bottom of his quiver and selected an explosive arrow.  The men were caught between a rock and a hard place: if they tried to run he’d pick them off one by one, but if they stayed where they were, cowering in their vehicle…  
  
The explosion sent the jeep and everyone near it up in flames and smoke.  
  
There was no time to dwell on the small victory as more men were pouring in, rushing the building Natasha was still in and firing wild shots in the air trying to catch the phantom sniper.  One by one they all met similar fates.  When only three remained Clint fired a single arrow at their feet which exploded in a spray of liquid that covered them and pooled on the ground.  At first they were confused, then they laughed at this obvious mistake or malfunction.  
  
They stopped laughing when a second arrow struck the puddle and electrocuted all three of them in one shot, the current running easily through the water.  The was no more movement below.  
  
Holding his position, Hawkeye scanned the surrounding area for any stragglers, any other reinforcements but saw nothing and heard nothing other than the staccato of gunfire that still penetrated the silence from inside.  
  
Then, suddenly, that stopped too.  
  
The silence was deafening and Clint’s entire body felt electrified, tense, ready to explode like one of his many arrows.  His heart hammered in his ears. One beat, no movement in the darkness.  Two beats, no sound of approaching engines.  Three beats, nothing, nothing, nothing…  
  
Finally deeming the coast clear he abandoned his post.  Keeping his bow at the ready he descended the fire escape and paused once at ground level.  No change, nothing; no sounds, no movement, nothing, nothing, nothing.  
  
Creeping quickly and quietly across the street he barely noticed the bodies nor the burning vehicle, eyes sweeping over them only to assure himself there was no movement.  Nothing.  
  
Slowly pushing the door of the building open he raised his bow, arrow nocked, and slipped silently inside.  Nothing.  Each footstep was far too painfully slow but he couldn’t rush in, couldn’t underestimate the enemy.  
  
The hallway turned to the left and, taking a deep breath, Clint rounded the corner swiftly, the tip of his arrow almost touching skin even as he found himself staring straight down the barrel of a gun.  
  
For a moment neither of them moved, they didn’t even breathe, until recognition dawned.  
  
“Clear?” Clint asked her, gaze moving past the gun to the wide green eyes behind it.    
  
“Clear,” Natasha confirmed.  
  
Slowly they lowered their weapons, their eyes staying locked in a heated gaze until they both moved in simultaneously, her hand grabbing his shirt, his arrow clattering forgotten to the floor as he tangled his fingers in her red hair, their lips crashing together forcefully, desperately, as hard and violent as the battle they had just fought.  Relief and adrenaline coursed through them, flowed between them, and their bodies pressed together until there was no space keeping them apart.  There was blood on their tongues but neither knew whose it was, nor did they care, and only when their lungs ached did they finally part, gasping for breath and clinging to one another to stay upright.    
  
Opening his eyes, Clint could see everything he was feeling mirrored back in hers.  They didn’t need words, they worked better without them, communicating instead with looks, gestures, touches… they had built their own silent language that nobody understood but them, and it was more real, more comforting than any words they could express.  
  
“Now let’s get the hell out of here,” Natasha said with a grin, pulling him into one last quick but fierce kiss before giving him a playful shove away and heading to the door.  Retrieving his fallen arrow, Clint followed after her, still cautious as they stepped outside but without the heaviness of fear weighing him down.    
  
As they melted, together, into the night the silence was no longer deafening but a familiar comfort instead.


End file.
